


Caroline at the White House

by Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-19
Updated: 2011-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She dreamed of a world she would be able to supervise, control, master, rule over if necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caroline at the White House

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Caroline à la Maison Blanche](https://archiveofourown.org/works/377051) by [Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune). 



> Thanks to be_cool_bec for the beta.

She dreamed of a world she would be able to supervise, control, master, rule over if necessary.

\- - - - -

Caroline Reynolds dreamed, and Lincoln Burrows woke up in a surreal nightmare.

\- - - - -

“You want the power”, Terrence tells her.

“You need to have it if you want things changing,” she answers, her face and tone of voice pretty perfect. A paragon of political sincerity, despite the cliché of her words.

But Terrence smiles, quietly and knowingly, and let his fingertips slide up his sister’s arm.

“No. You just want the power.”

\- - - - -

“You want the power,” Paul Kellerman tells her.

“It’s the premise to any action,” she answers, while giving him a file.

He’s dying to approach her, smell her, maybe even touch her. She’s careful to hand him the file from its furthest end, her fingers far away from his, but he can feel the warmth radiating from her hand. They say cold hands, warm heart, and he wonders if the other way around is true.

“No. You want the power to punish your opponents.”

\- - - - -

“You want the power”, Samantha Brinker tells her.

“Don’t you?” she answers, and turns her back to Brinker.

Samantha clenches her fists, her fingernails gnawing into the flesh of her palms, and she digs her heels more firmly into the carpeted floor of Caroline’s office. She has to constantly struggle not to slump into the nearest armchair, carelessly prop her feet up the desk and let Caroline Reynolds know what she thinks of the vice-presidency.

“You want the power so you can abuse it.”

“What are you complaining for?” Caroline shots back.

\- - - - -

“You want the power”, President Mills tells her.

“I want to stand up for my convictions,” she answers with an admirable tone of devotion.

He walks faster along the path through the park and lowers his head to hide his smile when she has to take longer strides to keep up with him; she sways a bit on her high heels. It’s a small satisfaction, but this is all he has, now. That, and the pleasure of...

“They’re sickening and dangerous.”

“You weren’t thinking that when you asked me to...”

“Yeah, yeah,” he stops her with a small wave of his hand. “You want the power to have the power.”

\- - - - -

She dreamed of a world she would be able to supervise, control, master, rule over if necessary. Her own little universe where nothing could get passed her, of which she would be the center and the brain, the pivot. A web in which her enemies and adversaries would tangle. A network of acquaintances, associates, connections at her full service.

And she may not have _quite_ this yet, but she raises her right hand and takes the oath, and at this exact moment, the difference is almost non existent.

\- - - - -

“You want the power,” Bill Kim tells her.

He’s all smiles and smooth features, his eyes glassy and unreadable. She’s half expecting him to jump to her throat, bite her and spit his venom.

Try to spit his venom.

“No,” she quietly answers, “I already have it.”

\- - - - -

 _You won’t get the power_ : this is the gist of what Michael Scofield is telling her.

He’s sitting on a chair, cuffed to a chair, in some back room. He has a swollen eye, a split lip, blood all over his face and, and yet at this second, he has at his disposal all the power Caroline has ever dreamed of. And maybe a little more. There’s a strange mix of hate and compassion in his eyes and she’s unable to look the other way.

She doesn’t know if it’s because of the hate or because of the compassion he’s displayed that her heart almost misses a beat when she steps on the scene in the conference room. Maybe she won’t get the power, but nobody will take it off her. She’ll hand it back on her own terms.

End


End file.
